Accidents
by sydiy5bea
Summary: Sully and Nate get into an argument. A huge argument. Sully learns there's some things you can't take back. Nate learns what it means to have a family.
1. Chapter 1

I take a left at the end of the hall and follow the steadily increasing room numbers to room 118. The door is ajar, but I knock anyway. "Come in," says a small voice from the far corner of the room.

I press open the door and cross the empty classroom to the teacher's desk. The man sitting across the desk invites me to sit next to the dark haired boy. I spare Nate a glance as I sit. He's slouching with his arms across his chest with an expression that says _I don't want to be here._ "You wanted to see me?" I address Nate's math teacher.

"Yes, thank you for coming, Mr. Sullivan. I wanted to talk to you about your son's performance in my class."

"He's not my father," Nate grumbles under his breath through clenched teeth.

"...Right. I wanted to talk to you about your _charge's_ performance in my class," the teacher continues. "He refuses to do his homework, he sleeps in class, and he can be quite disruptive."

"Is that so?" I ask sarcastically, giving the kid a look. He ignores me.

"Yes, and I'm sorry to report he's currently failing my class."

"Huh. Interesting. I'm sure it's no surprise this is the first I'm hearing of this," I say, pointed at Nate.

"So what?" he scoffs. "I'm failing math. Whoopdie-fucking-doo."

"Nate!" I scold. "Apologize. Now."

"Whatever. I'll wait outside." He kicks his chair away and tromps out the door, slamming it behind him.

I turn back to the teacher. "Is he like this all the time?"

He shrugs. "Pretty much."

"I am so sorry you have to put up with him. He never acts like this at home."

"No, that's alright. I've given him his fair share of detentions and suspensions. What I actually called you here to talk about is his test scores." He reaches into his drawer and pulls out a few packets of paper. There's a big, red F scrawled across all of them. "These are Nathan's last four tests. As you can see, he's failed every single one of them."

"And I see he also forged my signature on every single one of them," I mutter, inspecting my initials.

"If you fail a test, school protocol states that a parent must sign it to prove they know their child's failing. I'm sure they all forge their parent's signature, but I have to follow the rules." He rolls his eyes at this statement. Apparently he thinks he knows better than the school.

"So, what, do I get him a tutor? Do I need to make him stay after school and get some help from you?"

The teacher takes off his glasses and wipes them on the edge of his sweater. "I don't think he needs help learning the concepts. In fact, I think he knows the material quite well."

"Then why is he failing?"

"I think he's doing it on purpose."

I blink slowly. "On _purpose_?"

"Yes." He shuffles through some of Nate's papers and shows me a question he's circled. "Look here. His work is all completely correct up to this point. He's correctly worked through all the difficult parts, but right here he makes an atrocious arithmetic error. It's simple addition."

I shrug. "So? Maybe he just made a mistake."

"I would think so too if he didn't do it on every single problem." He walks me through some of Nate's other blunders and by the end I'm thoroughly convinced that his hunch is correct. Nate is definitely failing on purpose, but I'm still hung up on the "why" part.

"Thank you again for meeting with me, Mr. Sullivan," the teacher shakes my hand at the conclusion of the hour.

"No, thank you for bringing this to my attention. You can be sure we're going to have a talk about all of this. And don't hesitate to contact me again if he continues being disrespectful."

"I will. Have a good evening."

"You, too."

I softly close the door behind me and turn to meet the eyes of my protégé. I keep my face clear of emotion as he scowls at me. "Let's go," I command. Nate rolls his eyes and slowly pulls himself off the ground.

We make our way to my car. I have no intention to stop moving until we get back to the apartment because I am about to explode. Nate, however, doesn't feel the same way. I turn my head at the sound of Nate's name being called down the hallway. There's a group of guys making their way towards us, waving and smiling friendly. "Hey, what's up guys?" Nate calls back, beginning to break off in their direction.

"Nate, let's go," I say, attempting to get him back on track.

"I'll only be a minute, Sully."

"Nathan, I am _not_ playing around. We are leaving _now_." I think I see him flinch at my use of his full name. I've never called him that before.

Surprisingly, that worked and we're back on track. We stay silent the entire rest of the way home. Once we get there, I sit Nate at the table. His narrowed eyes follow me as I pace back and forth in front of him. "I know what you're trying to do," I start. "You're trying to flunk your classes so you don't graduate and I'm forced to pull you from school. Is that it?"

He shrugs. "Pretty much."

I shake my head and continue pacing. "I should have known, between the fights and the refusal to do homework. I'm trying to do you a favor, you know?"

"What, boring me to tears with academics so I'll beg to join you on your adventures?"

"No, quite the opposite actually." I finally come to a stop in front of the teenager. "I'm trying to stimulate your mind. I'm trying to give you an opportunity to have friends. I'm trying to give you a sense of normalcy, something you've never had."

Nate clenches his jaw and fixes me with a glare. "Who are you to say I need a 'sense of normalcy'? I was doing just fine before you came along."

"That may be true, but who would have helped you escape the wrath of Marlowe's army?"

"I would've figured something out," he snarls, jumping out of seat so we're nose to nose. "I'm just here to learn how to thieve. I don't need 'stimulation', thank you very much."

"So this is the thanks I get for saving your skin?" I ask, more than irritated now. "I put my entire life on hold for you and you can't even be the least bit grateful?"

"You didn't _need_ to put your life on hold! I can take care of myself!"

"No, you can't! That's why you're here and not sleeping on the streets!"

"I'm here because you wanted something to show for your botched job in Cartagena. I'm here because you couldn't _stand_ the thought that 15 year old boy stole your wallet then beat you to the prize. I'm here because you were upset you couldn't have another go at Barbie's much older, whore-of-a-sister!"

I don't know why I did it. You could make the argument that Nate would not stop pushing until I snapped. But I'm his mentor. I shouldn't have slapped him. It was almost an involuntary movement, but I shouldn't have slapped him.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh is loud in contrast to the silence that follows. Nate's face flows through a variety of emotions. It starts with shocked which leads to hurt and ends with fear. My face is frozen on phase one, however. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. I take a few steps back trying desperately to say something. Anything. "Nate... Kid, I-"

"Don't call me that!" he yells, angry tears springing to his eyes. He holds his cheek and turns to run to his room.

I reach the door just after I hear him engage the lock. "Nate?" I ask, leaning my head against the doorframe. "Nate, I swear I didn't mean it. Please let me in."

There's some rustling on the other side of the door. I wait eagerly, hoping the sounds means he's willing to give me another chance. "Nate, please open the door." My hopes are squashed when a slip of paper shoots out from under the door.

I bend down to pick it up. It's short and to the point. _Leave me alone._

I sigh and say, "Okay, I get it. I'll check in on you later tonight."

* * *

 _Later that night..._

I can't avoid him forever. I take a deep breath and will myself to knock. The sound is hollow. "Nate, it's me. I'd like to talk about what happened earlier."

No response. As expected.

"Come on, you shut me out forever. We've got to talk this through."

Nothing.

"If you're not going to let me in, I'm going to let me in."

Nada.

"Alright, here I come."

Zilch.

I press down on the handle, surprised to find it unlocked. I'll take that as a good sign. Another ominous sign greets me after I swing the door open. The room's empty. Frowning, I make my way to the bed. "Nate?" I turn around myself. "You in here?"

Suddenly my eyes catch sight of a neatly folded piece of paper on the neatly made bed. My world crashes to a halt at the sight of Nate's beautiful calligraphy spelling out my name: _Sully_.

I quickly read the rest of the letter, choking back horrified noises. I cover my face with shaking hands. _Oh Nate, what have you gotten yourself into this time?_ The darkness doesn't answer.


	2. Chapter 2

"Don't call me that!" I yell.

I run down the hall and lock my bedroom door behind me and lean against it. "Nate?" Sully asks next to my ear on the other side of the door. "Nate, I swear I didn't mean it. Please let me in."

My throat has stopped working. The stinging patch of my cheek is much too familiar. I know talking will only bring sobs, so I slip my notebook out of my back pocket. I scribble, _Leave me alone._

"Nate, please open the door," Sully says. I rip out the page and slip it under the door. I watch his shadow bend down to pick it up. He sighs and says, "Okay, I get it. I'll check in on you later tonight."

I start to pack up my bag, stuffing it with clothes and the money I've hidden under the bed. Before I leave, I write Sully a note and leave it folded on the bed.

 _Sully,_

 _I'm leaving. Don't run after me because I won't come home with you. I know I've been a terrible person lately. I guess I deserved what I got. And don't worry about the bruise. You'd be surprised how many others I've collected over the years. Your's was just a drop in the bucket. Sorry I'm such a disappointment._

 _Goodbye,_

 _Nate_

With the note left on my bed, I slip out of the window and down to Sully's car. I always kept a spare car key in my room in case of a situation like this. I pull out of the spot and start driving. I've already been formulating a plan of action.

First, I stop at the hardware store that doubles as a forging mill. I'm going to need to pass as a 21 year old if my plan is going to work. Within an hour, Mark has printed me a new ID. Sully and I are regulars, so the rush job doesn't clean out my wallet.

Then I make my way to the library. A quick web search turns up the address of both of my next stops. By the time I leave, I have them both committed to memory, I print them out just in case my muddled mind starts to delete "unnecessary information". Stupid brain...

Next stop: the airport. I park Sully's car by the departure terminal. That'll throw him off my scent. I leave the doors unlocked and the keys in the glove box. I didn't want to steal Sully's car. It would be way too easy to track me down. I'm sure he'll find the car eventually. Sully's weird like that.

Once inside, I make my way to the barren rental car agency desk. I ring the bell, shifting my feet nervously. This part needs to go quickly and smoothly. Fortunately, I don't have to wait long for a man with a name tag to emerge from the back room. He gives me a strange look before asking, "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, I would like to rent a car."

"You must be 21 to rent a car," he says dismissively.

"I am 21."

"Really?"

"Yes, I'm just short."

"Could I see some ID?"

"Yeah, here." I place my bag on the ground and root around for my wallet. I hand him my ID, holding it between my index and middle finger. I've seen Sully do it like that before.

The man inspects it with a single raised eyebrow. Eventually, he sighs reluctantly and begins to discuss vehicle options. I settle on a Camry. I figure it's the most inconspicuous choice. I'm pretty sure nobody's ever done anything illegal in a Camry.

I toss my duffle onto the passenger seat and start the car. I take a deep breath and grip the steering wheel, trying to set a determined look on my face.

Time to find Sam.


	3. Chapter 3

I pace the hallway for the five hundredth time. I don't have the faintest idea of where to start looking for Nate. Should I call the police? I don't want to unless I have to. I try to stay out of Uncle Sam's way as much as a I possibly can.

The phone quickly snaps me out of my reverie. I pick up it up at the fourth ring and answer with a breathless, "Hello?"

"Hey Victor, it's Mark. From the 'hardware store'," he adds when I don't respond.

"Oh, yes! Mark, h-how are you?" I can hardly keep the stutter out of my voice. The worry I have for Nate is quickly catching up with me.

"I'm fine. I was just calling to tell you that Nate just paid me a visit."

"He did?" I exclaim with a little too much vigor. I take it down a notch for my next question. "What did he ask for?"

"He wanted an ID, but get this. He wanted to pass himself off as 21 not 18. Can you imagine? Little Nate, 21 years old. Although, I guess he's going to be 18 next year. God, time flies, huh?"

"Yeah..." I take a deep breath. "Did he say where he was headed?"

"He said something about the airport. Did you not send him?"

"Uh... no."

"No?"

"We had a sort of... falling out."

"Really? I didn't think anything could seperate you two."

"I'm chasing after him, don't worry. I guess I'm headed to the airport then."

"Go get him, Victor."

"Thanks Mark." I hang up quickly and proceed to throw a few pairs of clothing into my duffle bag. Airports tend to mean travel.

I swing the door open to run to the car. If I move fast enough, I might be able to catch him before his plane-

"Dammit, Nate!" I yell at the empty parking spot. He stole my car! I'll have to call a taxi.

Half an hour later, I find myself impatiently sitting in a cab. I can't sit still. Maybe Nate rubbed off on me more than I had originally thought. I scoot forward on my seat to tap the cabbie on the shoulder. "Uh, could you possibly go any faster? I'm kind of in a hurry."

"Sir, I'm going the speed limit. I'm not allowed to break the law."

"I'll pay you extra."

He pauses, then presses the gas petal further.

I smile and lean back. Money makes the world go 'round. It never fails.

I'm dropped off at the departure terminal. It's only then I realize it won't do me any good. I have no idea which flight Nate would have taken. It breaks my heart to know that Nate could be literally be anywhere. Looking at the departure schedule, I see Paris, London, Rome... It honestly wouldn't surprise me to find that Nate has somehow made his way to the moon. He's weird like that.

 _Wait a second_ , my inner voice of reason chimes in. _Nate doesn't have nearly enough money for a plane ticket. Not if he wants to keep enough money to pay for food and a roof._ I spin around and scan the lobby for... _There!_

I tap the bell at the desk. When there's no response, I tap it three more times in rapid succession. "All right, all right, I'm coming," grumbles an employee from the back room. "What is it with you people tonight? How am I supposed to get any sleep?"

"Did a young man come by here recently? About this tall with a shaggy, brown mop of hair?"

"...Yes."

"Did you rent him a car?"

"Yes, although I'm still not convinced he was 21."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No."

"A-Are you sure?"

"No, it's not my business to discuss travel plans with customers."

I clench my fists at my side to keep myself from lunging across the desk and grabbing him by the collar. It's not his fault he can't read Nate's mind. "Okay, thank you."

A tourturous twenty minutes later, I'm still sitting on the hard bench outside the terminal with no clue as to where Nate's gone. With a plane, I could at least know his general destination. He could have driven anywhere. I rake another frustrated hand through my hair and lift my head. My eyes widen as they land on... "Nate, you son of a bitch."

I quickly make my way to my car, surprised to find the doors left open and the keys in the glove box. I guess Nate never intended on stealing the car. I lean my head back onto my head rest. "Stupid kid... What have you gotten yourself into?" I sigh and turn the engine on. I might as well go home to start calling around about Nate. I've never been more relieved to have so many friends around the world. Well, "friends" is a loose term...

The AC turns on with the car, turned up full blast. There's a weird fluttering sound coming from on of the vents. Frowning, I pluck a stray scrap of paper from the plastic slats. It looks like it was torn from Nate's notebook. My heart leaps at the prospect of a clue leading to his location. It has two addresses: the airport and-

"Sam?!"


	4. Chapter 4

I lean against the car, arms folded, waiting for the tank to fill up. It's a quiet night. Too quiet. Normally, Sully and I would fill in the quiet moments with banter and light conversation. Well, mostly banter. I almost let myself feel lonely, but I remind myself that Sully doesn't matter anymore. I'm going to see Sam. I smile, thinking back to when he came to visit me a few years ago...

* * *

 _A year earlier..._

I trudge up the steps, mentally exhausted from a long day at school. _Stupid frickin' physics... Who the hell cares how much potential energy rollercoasters have?_ I unlock the front door and call, "Sully, I'm home!"

I'm slipping my shoes off when Sully rounds the corner and says, "Hey, kid. I've got a surprise for you."

"Okay..." I say wearily. I not usually one for surprises.

Someone else steps out from behind the wall. "Hey, little brother."

I drop my bag and run over to hug him. "Sam!" I laugh happily. "What are you doing here?"

"To see you, of course. And I thought you were the smart one," he teases.

"Shut up." I playfully punch him in the shoulder. "How'd you even find me?"

"I know people, I've heard things..." he says, some what vague. But I don't care.

"Sam, Sam, look." I tug on the leather cord around my neck and draw the ring out from under my shirt. "I found it!" I whisper excitedly.

"Whoa, lemmie see that." I obediently hand it over and Sam inspects it. "That's incredible. When'd you find it? _Where'd_ you find it?"

"Last year in Columbia."

He gives me an incredulous look. "Columbia? What the hell were you doing in Columbia?"

"Looking for the ring."

"Columbia is dangerous, Nathan. You could have gotten yourself killed."

"But I didn't."

Sam smiles and hands the ring back. "Cocky bastard."

I then drag Sam to my room to show him the research I've been doing on Drake's journey in the East Indies. During all my ramblings, he keeps a smile on his face even though I know he's bored to tears. He's such an awesome brother.

We both look up at the sound of knocking at my door. "You two ready for dinner?" Sully asks.

"Yeah, I'm starved," I say, closing my notebook.

"What do you want?"

"I don't know. Pizza? Chinese?" I turn to Sam. "What do you want?"

"Pizza sounds good to me," he shrugs.

Sully takes the three of us to the pizza place around the corner. Sully and I share a large meat-lovers and Sam has a medium cheese all to himself. "I've got to watch those calories," he winks, making me laugh.

Later that night, Sam and I lounge on the couch, stuffed to the brim. Some stupid cop show plays in the background. "Are you staying over?" I ask.

"I guess. Depends on if the old man'll let me stay," Sam says.

"I'm sure he will." I twist around and call into the kitchen, "Sully, can Sam stay tonight?"

"As long as he doesn't cause any problems," he responds. He stands up and starts to walk towards us.

"He'll be fine," I assure him. "Right Sam?'

Sam gives him a thumbs up. "Right."

"He's good."

Sully rustles my hair. "Alright. He can take the couch."

"Thanks," Sam nods.

"No problem." Sully turns his attention back to me. "Ready for bed, kid?"

"What?" I push myself up to a seated position. "It's only 9:30."

"It's a school night. You'll be cranky if you don't get enough sleep."

"What, is he a toddler?" Sam scoffs. "Let him stay up. What's the worst that'll happen?"

"Yeah, let me stay up! Sully, please?" I beg.

"Nate..."

"Please, please, please?"

"Alright, alright, I'll let you stay up, whiney. Just try to be in bed before midnight, okay? I'm going to bed. See you in the morning, kid."

"'Night, Sully."

Sam waits until Sully's door closes to ask, "Why do you listen him?"

I shrug. "He kind of saved my life."

"So? That doesn't mean you have to live with him."

"Well, he's also teaching me the ins and outs of the field."

"Let me get this straight," Sam says, gesticulating with his hands. "He's teaching you?"

"Yeah."

"He's... _teaching_ you?"

"Yes. I don't get what's so hard to understand."

"It's because he's _not_ teaching you. He's using you for his own personal gain. Can't you see that?"

"Well..."

"You're his little lackey."

"No, I'm his partner."

"Nathan, trust me. I know these things because I've experienced them."

I shift in my seat. Sully wouldn't... "You really think so?"

"I _know_ so."

I scratch the back of my head. "I-I don't know, Sam. He doesn't really seem like that kind of person."

Sam throws his arms in the air. "Alright, think what you will. It's your life." The air is heavy between us. "I think you should come home with me. I'm a lot younger than him. I can protect you."

"I, uh, think I'll decline. I've got it good with Sully."

"Okay, I understand. But if 'Sully' doesn't work out for you, come find me. I'll take care of you, alright?"

I smile and peer out of the corner of my eye at Sam. "Thanks."

"No problem, bro."

* * *

The pump suddenly clicks, telling me the gas tank is filled. It's time to move on from this rest stop and the memories. But before I leave...

* * *

 _Ten minutes later..._

I almost barrel through the guardrail on the entrance ramp. It's kind of hard to turn with one hand on the wheel and the other one holding a donut.


	5. Chapter 5

I lean against the car, arms folded, waiting for the tank to fill up. It is way too quiet. Nate talks so much, it's impossible to forget his presence. Something I took for granted. I try to keep myself from worrying about Nate with Sam, but it's hopeless. My mind keeps drifting back to the first time Sam came to visit Nate...

* * *

 _A year earlier..._

I look up from the black and white pages of the newspaper at the sound of knocking on the front door. _That's weird_ , I think to myself. _Nate isn't usually home for another half hour._

Regardless, I open the door to find a man in his early twenties. He looks familiar and yet not familiar at the same time. "Do I know you?" I ask, still trying to place him.

"I don't think so," he says, shifting his bag on his shoulder. "I'm Nathan's older brother, Sam."

"Huh." _Well, that explains the familiarity._ "Uh, come in, I guess." I step aside to let him in.

"Thanks. Do you mind I leave my bag at the door?"

"No, not at all." I close the door behind him, mind reeling. _Nate never told me he had a brother._ "Nate's out right now, but we can have a drink until he comes home."

The man, or "Sam", smiles and asks, "Where is he? Sitting on top of a building somewhere?"

"I hope not." I grab two beers from the fridge. "He should still be in school."

"School?" Sam says, taking a beer from me. He sits at the table, laughing hysterically. "Oh, that's a good one!"

"What's so funny?" I ask, taking the seat across from him.

He wipes his eyes, then gets his breathing under control. "Wait, you were serious?"

"Yeah, what's so bad about that?" I smile, but underneath I'm kind of ticked. _Who is he to tell me how to take care of Nate?_

"It's not bad, necessarily. It's just weird to me. We never went to school when were together."

"That doesn't mean he can't go to school now. He's an incredibly smart kid. He deserves to flex his brain muscles. And I'm definitely not smart enough to do it."

"No, I think it's fine as long as he has a choice."

"Well, if I gave him a choice, he wouldn't go. He would be wasting his potential."

"So you're forcing him to go to school?"

"It's not like that," I scoff, smile finally caving.

"It's exactly like that and-"

"Do not finish that sentence," I threaten. Sam shuts his mouth, but he continues to glare at me. "I know you're family and you used to roam the streets together, but I'm the one that's been taking care of him for the past two years. I think I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, I'll be the judge of that," he says with a single eyebrow raised.

I take a breath to angrily respond, but Nate interrupts us. "Sully, I'm home!"

We break eye contact when I scoot my chair back. I peek around the corner and smile at the sight of Nate struggling to take his converse off. He looks up at my voice. "Hey, kid. I've got a surprise for you."

"Okay..." he says, raising a single eyebrow. It's uncanny how much he looks like his brother.

"Hey, little brother," Sam waves.

Nate's eyes widen in surprise then happiness. "Sam! What are you doing here?" he cries, running to give Sam a hug.

"To see you, of course. And I thought you were the smart one," he teases. I almost smile at the sweet reunion, but Sam stops me when he gives me sly smile. _It's not a competition, asshole._ But even as I think that, a tinge of worry hits my heart. _He couldn't be trying to take Nate from me... Could he?_

"Sam, Sam, look," Nate says excitedly, displaying his ring proudly. "I found it!" I watch their movements carefully. They're completely trusting of each other, no fear. I'm... jealous. _Jealous!_ God, I'm jealous of Sam. It took months for Nate to let me even touch him.

I let them have some time together in Nate's room. Once their laughter starts to grate on my nerves, I gather them for dinner. Pizza, to be exact. I make sure Nate sits next to me at the pizza place, but even then, Sam keeps Nate's attention.

Later that night, the brothers lounge on the couch, joking around with each other. Sam tunes the TV to one of the millions of cop shows. _No taste..._ "Are you staying over?" I hear Nate ask.

"I guess. Depends on if the old man'll let me stay," Sam says. I frown, but bite my tongue to keep my thoughts to myself.

"Sully, can Sam stay tonight?" Nate asks hopefully.

I glance between Nate's pleading eyes and Sam's smug smirk. He knows I won't deny Nate anything. If I do, Sam's liable to use that against me. "As long as he doesn't cause any problems," I decide to say. It appeases Nate and acts as a warning to his brother.

"He'll be fine," Nate says. "Right Sam?'

Sam gives me a thumbs up and a secret wink. "Right." _Asshole..._

Nate turns in his seat to face me again, eyes shining with happiness. "He's good."

I smile and rub Nate's head to mess with his hair. He laughs and swats my hand away. "Alright. He can take the couch," I say.

"Thanks," Sam nods.

"No problem," I say without even looking at him. "Ready for bed, kid?"

"What? It's only 9:30."

"It's a school night. You'll be cranky if you don't get enough sleep."

"What, is he a toddler?" Sam scoffs. "Let him stay up. What's the worst that'll happen?"

I shoot Sam a glare as Nate begs, "Yeah, let me stay up! Sully, please?"

"Nate..."

"Please, please, please?"

"Alright, alright," I give in. _Goddamn it,_ _Sam..._ "I'll let you stay up, whiney. Just try to be in bed before midnight, okay? I'm going to bed. See you in the morning, kid."

"'Night, Sully."

I consider running a hand through his hair, but he turns away to talk with Sam before I can do it.

* * *

I pull the pump from the tank and sigh. All I could think about that night was losing Nate. Later I realized I was being ridiculous. It's not like Sam could just take Nate with him. And I don't mind that Nate loves his brother. I think it's awesome he gets along so well with his family. I just don't trust Sam.

Before I can pull out of the gas station, I stop in the convenience store to fix a craving...

* * *

 _Ten minutes later..._

I lay on the horn as someone cuts in front of me. It's kind of hard to drive with a lit cigar in one hand.


	6. Chapter 6

I take a deep breath and exhale. I'm finally here. I've made it to Sam's apartment. And it only took me the entire night. I knock on the door and rock on my heels in excitement. This is gonna be so awesome!

The door opens and Sam peers between the door and the frame. There's a chain keeping the door from opening all the way. "What do you want?" he grunts.

"It's me. Nathan."

His eyes widen and close the door to slide the chain off the door. "Nathan? What are you doing here? I thought you would still be with that old fart."

"Well, I was, but we... had an argument."

"Aw. I'm sorry, bud. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Can I come in? I kind of drove all night to get here."

"Come in, little brother. Kick up your feet, take a load off. _Mi casa es tu casa._ "

" _Gracias, señor,_ " I laugh, dropping onto the worn leather couch. "Uh, I don't mean to be a bother, but do you happen to have breakfast? I haven't eaten anything since that donut a few hours ago."

"Of course I have food. It's all laid out on the table already."

"Sweet!" I peel myself off the couch and make my way to the kitchen. "Sully always says I'm like a bottomless - what the _hell_?" I jump at the unexpected sight of a young woman. A _beautiful_ , young woman.

"Oh, where are my manners? This is Vanessa." She runs a hand down his chest as he introduces her. "Vanessa, this is my little brother, Nathan."

She smiles, already donning makeup at 8:00 in the morning. "Well, aren't you a cutie."

I blush and duck my head like a little kid. Despite Sully's efforts, I'm still horribly awkward around women. My gaze darkens at the thought of my former mentor. Why can't I get him out of my head?

I refocus my attention on my brother and his... friend. "I'll see you tonight?" she asks.

"If I make it back in time."

Vanessa rolls her eyes. "Whatever, Sam." She grabs her bag and stalks out the door, slamming it behind her.

Sam doesn't even flinch. "She'll be back," he says to address the look I'm giving him.

"Uh-huh."

He drains his coffee mug and proclaims, "I'm going to change for the day. I'll be right back."

And I'm alone. I munch on a piece of buttered toast at the kitchen table, head resting on my hand. Who knew driving all night would be so exhausting?

Sam bustles back into the room. "Do you see my keys anywhere?"

I open my mouth to answer, but he interrupts. "Never mind. I found them. Have a good day, champ."

"Wait, what? You're going out?"

"Yeah, I've got a job. I'm already late."

"But..."

"You can take care of yourself, right?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"Good! I'll be back at around six. See ya."

And I'm alone. Again. I guess it gives me time to catch up on my sleep. I shake my head to get rid of the shadows of doubt in my mind. Sam will be back. I'm sure if it.


	7. Chapter 7

I double check the address written on the slip of paper before knocking. Once I'm sure, I rap the door three times. A streak of fear darts through me when I put my arm down to wait. _What if he doesn't come home with me? What if Sam doesn't allow me to see Nate? What if he died in a car accident on the way here and I didn't know?_

My thoughts continue to chase each other in circles as I stand perfectly still in front of Sam's door. After about a minute, I knock again only to get the same results. I then pound my fist on the door impatiently. _What's taking Sam so long? Maybe he's afraid I'm gonna knock his lights out._ I smile at the thought and knock once more.

Silence.

I huff in frustration. _Maybe they're not home._ I drop heavily into the driver's seat and put my face in my hands. I force myself to tamp down the fear twisting in my gut. Worrying too much will give me gray hairs, so I decide to rent a hotel room for the night. I'll take a quick, well deserved nap then get right back to it.

I shake my head backing out of my parking spot. If I'd have known he'd be this much trouble when we met in Columbia, I might have left him where I found him.

 _Who are you kidding, Sullivan?_ My subconscious chimes in. _You've gone soft. That boy has become the reason you wake up every morning. If he's runs from you, you'll run after him._ _He's worth it. And you know it._

"Goddamn it," I sigh to myself. "I hate it when I'm right."


	8. Chapter 8

_Thump!_

I groan and push myself off the floor. I must have rolled off the couch in my sleep. "What time is it?" I mutter, turning my head to squint at the clock. "Three o'clock?!"

Twenty minutes later, I'm resting at the table after rummaging through the empty pantry and the barren fridge. Sam has nothing but beer and moldy, stale bread. I'm hungry but not starving. And trust me, I know what starving is like. I'll wait until Sam comes home to eat. Until then, I draw in my notebook to keep busy.

Before I know it, Sam's home. "Hey, little brother. How was your day?"

"Um... relaxing."

"Good, good. You want something to eat?"

"Yes, please!"

Sam lifts an eyebrow and waves me towards the door. "Please? Since when have you started saying _please_?"

I laugh and join him by the door. "Sully's been pushing me to clean up my social skills and language. He says if I'm ever hoping to make any friends, female or otherwise, I need to be more approachable."

"Why do you keep talking about him? I thought you hated him," Sam says, locking his apartment door behind him.

"Well, I do. I was just explaining my habits."

"Good, 'cause I don't wanna hear about him anymore. Okay?"

"Yes, Sam."

"That's my boy." He pats me on the back. "Let's go get drunk."

"What?" I stop and give Sam an incredulous look. "Drunk? I thought we were going out to eat."

"We are," he assures me. "But the bar happens to offer food _and_ alcohol."

"But... I'm 17. I'm not supposed to be drinking."

"Oh, come on. Live a little. One night's not gonna kill you."

"But..." _Sully said alcohol destroys brain cells. Brain cells I can't afford to lose at such a young age._ But I don't say any of that because Sam forbid me from mentioning Sully again.

"Don't worry," he says, opening the passenger door for me. "I won't let you embarrass yourself."

* * *

 _Five hours later..._

"And then I told her to *hiccup* get out of the car..." Sam rambles, totally inebriated.

I turn away and sigh, draining the last of my Coke and Coke on the rocks. I check my watch for the hundredth time. _Ugh, 10:30 already?_ I tap Sam's shoulder. "Sam, can we go now?"

"Soon, Nathan, soon."

"But Sam-"

"I said _soon_."

"But I don't feel comfortable here. I feel like I'm about to get mugged or... something. Please can we go?"

"Fine. We'll go, _cry baby_."

I clench my jaw in a short flash of anger. He used to call me cry baby when we were young. I hated it then, and I hate it now. I can't help that living on the streets has taught me to always trust my instincts. Something is seriously off about this night. I just can't put my finger on it.

I hold out my hand expectantly. "What'd ya want?" he mumbles, stumbling off the stool.

"The keys."

"Why?"

"To drive us home."

"Dude, I'm driving. It's my car!"

"I know, but you're way too drunk."

"Didn't you hear me, _dweeb_? It's _my_ car! I'm driving!" He angrily pushes me away from the driver's side door and yanks it open. "You wanted to go, _let's go_! Get in!"

I quickly and quietly take my seat in the passenger's side. I clasp my hands to keep them from shaking. Sam's behavior is way too reminiscent of Dad's drunken antics. I'll just cooperate to stay on his good side. The bar is not far from his apartment. It won't take long to get home. I can lock myself in the bathroom until he falls asleep.

 _How is this any better than living with Sully?_ My subconscious asks me.

 _Shut up, me._

I'm shaken out of my stupor at the car swerves sharply to the left. "Sam, please be careful."

"I am b-being careful! Didn't you see that guy just turn into my lane?"

"...No."

"Are you *hiccup* blind? There was clearly - oh, _shit_!" He pulls on the wheel again causing the tires to screech their protest.

"Sam!"

"I got it, I got it."

"No, you don't! Pull over, I'll drive."

"I said, _I got it_!"

A pair of real headlights are quickly heading towards us. "Shit, Sam pull to the right!"

"Why?"

"Now! We're gonna hit him!"

"Who?"

I realize I'm gonna have to take things into my own hands if we want to live, so I lunge to grab the wheel. "Hold on!" I yell.

" _Let go, Nath_ -"

He never finishes. The world suddenly goes dark as the car slams into a sign.


	9. Chapter 9

Later that afternoon, I'm well rested and ready to go after Nate again. I try Sam's apartment once more, but there's still no one home. Out of ideas already, I ask the receptionist in the lobby if she's seen them.

"I'm sorry, sir. All I can say is they left four or five hours ago. I don't know where they went," she answers apologetically.

"It's okay. Thank you anyway." I'm disappointed (and slightly terrified), but I can't blame the girl for not knowing.

I sit in my car for a few minutes contemplating my next move. _If I were a disrespectful little shit named Sam, where would I take my little brother who I only kind of care about? Probably somewhere I shouldn't be. That's where Nate would be, and I'm betting the apple doesn't fall far from the tree._

I begin to drive around town, looking for tattoo parlors or strip clubs. I don't find anything like that, but I do find a bar. It's nothing to speak of, just a hole in the wall. But it has just enough chaos for it to be a viable location. Thankfully, my presence isn't anything to note. Everyone's too engrossed in their drinks to pay any attention to me. "Excuse me?" I ask the bartender.

"Yes, sir?" He looks happy to have a distraction from cleaning used glasses.

"Have you seen two young men with dark hair and long, lanky legs. They're brothers and I'm trying to get in touch with them."

"Uh... I don't think so, sorry."

My heart drops into my stomach. "No, you have to have seen them. I've been looking for more than 48 hours and I-I'm so worried about-"

The bartender holds up his hands in a sign of surrender. "Okay, okay. I haven't seen them, but maybe someone else has. I'll ask around."

"Thank you," I breathe, bracing myself against the bar.

Two minutes later, the bartender comes back with an older man in a suit, but I don't let myself get excited just yet. "Has he seen them?" I ask.

"Personally, no," the suit says. "But one of my employees saw two men that match your description."

"Really? Where?"

"They were at the bar, but I'm afraid they just left twenty minutes ago."

No, no, no... "Goddamn it," I mutter under my breath.

"I'm sorry, but that's all we know."

"Thanks anyway."

And I'm back to sitting in my car. At least this time I have a destination. They have to be headed back to the apartment. Not even Sam would want to drag Nate's drunk ass around.

The drive back to the apartment seems to go by much faster than the drive here. I make a game plan for what I'm going to say to Nate. _First I'm going to tell him I'm sorry and it will never happen again. If he doesn't accept my apology, I'll tell him-_

"What the hell?" I tap on the brakes a little to get a better look at the sight in front of me. There's a car crashed against a sign. This wasn't here when I drove by ten minutes ago. There's still smoke pouring out from under the hood. I pull over to take a look. The wreck definitely looks bad enough to be deadly. I can take a break from my quest to check that nobody's seriously injured.

"Hello? Anybody in there?" I call slowly approaching the driver's side door. "Hello?" I realize the driver's seat is empty when I make it to the window. Weird... There's no body laying on the ground in front of the car, so the driver wasn't ejected from his seat. He must have left on his own accord. I look into the car again, and I suddenly have tunnel vision.

"Nate?!" I sprint around the other side and rip open the door. "Oh, god..." His bloody nose and black eye are the least of his problems. The air bag has deflated somewhat, but it's obvious it smacked his face and cracked/broke some ribs. His right arm looks dislocated while the left elbow is bloody and bent the wrong way.

I frantically claw at the seat belt clasp. "Nate? Can you hear me?" He doesn't respond. _He must be concussed. I've gotta drive him to the hospital. It could be too late by the time the ambulance gets here._

I extract Nate from the car as gently as I can and lay him across the back seat. I don't want to hurt his neck or broken limbs. "You're okay, kid. You're gonna be okay, I promise."

I grip the steering wheel with white knuckles and start the car. _If I ever find Sam... I'm gonna make him wish he was never born._

The hospital is twenty minutes away, but I get there illegally in only ten. I slam to a stop in front of the emergency wing. A pair of men in scrubs are smoking outside and give me a raised eyebrow. "Um, sir," starts one of them.

"Please, you have to help me. My kid was just in a car accident and he's unconscious and bleeding and his arm-"

"Okay, it's okay, sir," one says as the other runs inside. "Where there any passengers in the car with him?"

"No, he was the passenger. His brother was driving. I'm assuming he was drunk and ran from the scene."

"Is your son drunk, too?"

"I... I don't know. I wasn't there. I just found him on the side of the road."

"You are one lucky man."

"Yeah..." I glance back at Nate's prone form. _I'm something alright..._

The man puts a hand on my shoulder. "We're gonna do everything we can, sir."

I'm pushed aside as a swarm of scrubs crowd the car. My body is numb, but I'm mentally freaking out at the sight of Nate being stuck with an IV and an oxygen mask put over his mouth and nose. I try to follow his gurney, but an old, petite nurse blocks my way. "Sir, you can't enter the trauma center."

"But he's my kid! I can't... I have to-"

"I'm sorry, I really am, but rules are rules. You can stay in the family waiting room for now. We'll come find you when we have news."

I didn't realize she was leading me away while she was talking. She presses me down into a seat by the window. I break my gaze at the stars to look up at the nurse. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," she smiles.

And I'm alone. Again.


	10. Chapter 10

When I wake, two women in scrubs are staring down at me. "…Hear me? Nathan?" I groan and try to push myself up into a sitting position, but they hold me down. "Don't move, Nathan. We don't want you moving your neck, okay? Now we're going to roll your bed to the CT scanner to check for damages around your neck, concussions, and broken ribs."

"Ribs…?"

"Yes, that and your arms are both casted." They take the brake off my bed and start pushing me down the hall.

"Am I in the hospital?"

"Yes, Nathan. We'll take good care of you." I'm much more alert now, and it's really hard to stay still. My head hurts like hell and I keep shifting, but the nurses keep fixing me. "Please keep still. You can't move while you're in the CT scanner. It'll make the image blurry."

"But my head..." I groan, "it hurts so much."

"The drugs are just starting to wear off. You'll have a headache for a few minutes, but we'll give you more painkillers once we're done with the scanner. Stay still." She presses on my chest lightly to push me back against the bed.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"It's okay, Nathan. We just need you to stay still." They stop the bed and lift me onto the CT scanner's "tray", then they step into another room. "Okay, Nathan, we're going to slide you forward to take some pictures of your head," says the nurse from a speaker under my head.

The bed jerks towards a huge circular machine with a big hole through the center. It starts clanging and hissing, and my breath gets faster, irritating my chest. The bed stops when my head is under the big, scary, loud machine. "No… I don't want to do this. Please let me out."

"Nathan, it's okay. Just hold still for-"

"I can't, please, I can't breathe. I can't breathe!"

"Please don't-"

"Get me out!"

I roll off the bed onto the floor. I re-bust my nose when it smacks the ground as I'm not able to catch myself with my casted arms. I try to push myself up, but two guys grab me before I can get anywhere. "Okay, sir, let's get you back on the bed. We can give you a calming agent for your claustrophobia."

"My... I'm not claus..."

"Mm hm, sure." They sit me on the bed and gently lay my head on the pillow. One guy sets up an IV while the other guy cleans up my nose. My mind starts to slow down with the drug.

"You need to keep still, okay?"

"Okay."

The two go back to his little room and he calls over the intercom, "Okay, let's try this again. The machine will make noises, but that's normal."

"Normal."

"Yes, completely normal."

"Completely normal. Completely normal," I repeat to myself. The drugs let me keep calm, so the scans can be done quickly.

They wheel me back into my room, but one of the nurses stays in the room with me. They tell me I'm not allowed to sleep until they come back with the results. "Nathan, you have to stay awake," the nurse reminds me every time I close my eyes.

A lab coated doctor walks in just as I'm about to lunge across the bed to knock out the nurse. "Mr. Drake, is it?" he asks, pulling up a chair beside my bed. He sets his clipboard on his knee.

"Yes."

"I'm Dr. Lu." He holds out his hand, expecting me to do the same.

I shrug and lift up my arms. "Um, sorry, but my hands are out of order at the moment."

"Oh, of course, of course. How could I forget?" He flips through a few pages of charts on his clipboard. "You are one remarkable person, you know. Broken and cracked ribs, a broken arm, a dislocated shoulder, and a severe concussion. It's a miracle you're alive to tell the tale."

"It's something alright..." I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain compounding in my head. "Can't you give me more of those painkillers? I think my eyes are about to liquidate in my skull and run out my ears."

"Ha, is that all?" Dr. Lu chuckles. "Your painkillers are wearing off, but we can't constantly be shooting you up with drugs. They're highly addictive."

"But it hurts."

"I know, Mr. Drake, but it's protocol. You're a fighter. You'll make it through. The critical life-and-death phase is over." Dr. Lu checks his clipboard again. "Now, the police are wondering about the details of the crash. Do you mind talking about it now?"

I swallow hard, but I nod. It'll be less suspicious if I just go along.

"Who was driving the vehicle?"

"My brother."

"And his name is...?"

"Uh..." _I can't tell him that! Sam'll get arrested!_ "I, uh, don't remember."

"You don't remember your brother's name?"

"...No." He gives me a skeptical look. "It must have been the concussion. I guess I have am... am..." _What's that word again?_

"Amnesia?"

"Yeah, amnesia! Bummer, huh?"

"Uh-huh. Real bummer..." Dr. Lu writes something, then looks back up at me. "Can you remember if your brother was intoxicated or not?"

"He... I'm pretty sure he was... drunk."

"Hm, so-"

"But it was my fault," I interrupt. "I'm the one who yanked on the wheel to get us out of on coming traffic. I just feel so terrible and so guilty."

"Mr. Drake-"

"Please tell me he's okay."

"Uh, that's the thing..." He doesn't meet my gaze. "We don't know if he's okay."

"You... don't know? How can you not know?!"

"He wasn't at the wreck when your friend found you."

"He wasn't...?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Drake. It seems he's vanished."

 _Well, I guess vanished is better than dead._ I go back to focus on the other half of his answer. "You said a friend found me... Who... _Argh_!" I screw my face up and slam my head against the pillow. "It _hurts_!"

"Whoa, whoa, stay still. Stay still." Dr. Lu and the nurse gently lay me back down. I know I'm not supposed to hear, but I pick up bits and pieces of what the doctor's whispering to the nurse. "...Pain... the dosage... higher..."

The nurse hurriedly leaves the room and comes back with another nurse who is thankfully carrying a bottle and a syringe. "This will feel like a pinch, okay Nathan?" the new nurse asks.

I nod as they proceed to roll up my sleeve. I wonder what would have happened if I said no. I look away as they puncture my arm and inject me with a clear liquid, mostly likely pain medication. _Oh, yeah,_ I think to myself as a weird cooling sensation crawls through my veins. _Definitely pain medication._

"Does that feel better?" Dr. Lu asks.

"Uh-huh," I answer with a stupid grin on my face, the one usually reserved for stoners and yogis. The pain gradually melts away. "Oh, that's the good stuff..." I turn to the original nurse and cheekily ask, "Can I sleep now?"

The three chuckle and the nurse responds with a nod of her head. "Sweet dreams, Mr. Drake. You deserve it."

 _No need to tell me twice..._


	11. Chapter 11

"Sir?" asks a woman behind me, tapping my shoulder lightly. "I have news about your son."

I shake the sleep from my eyes. "Really? Is he okay?"

She smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder. "He's fine. He's a fighter, you know."

I let out a breath and collapse against the back of my chair. It feels like my shoulders dropped two feet after releasing so much tension. "Thank god."

"He's not perfectly healthy, but he's alive and awake. The doctors have already talked to him, so you can come see him now."

She didn't need to tell me twice. I spring from my seat and follow her down the hall to Nate's room. "He's right in here," she says.

"Okay, thank you."

"Before you go in there, you should know that because he has a severe concussion, the room is being kept dark to protect his sensitive head. He is also forbidden from watching TV, reading, drawing, or listening to music. You should also try to keep your voice down."

"Of course, of course."

The nurse smiles and opens the door for me. "Go on in, sweetie. He's been waiting for you."

I nod, then hesitantly enter Nate's room. This could go in two very different directions.

The only signal Nate gives me to acknowledge my presence is his eyelids sliding open silently. "Hey, kid. How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Your nose was pretty messed up earlier. It looks better now."

"Yep."

"Those arms look pretty painful, too."

"Uh-huh."

I sigh and pull up a chair beside his bed. "Okay, listen Nate. I'm sorry I hit you. It was absolutely uncalled for and I shouldn't have done it, but you have to admit you were being difficult."

Nate finally stirs and shows some energy. "I was only being difficult because _you_ were being difficult," he shoots back.

"How was I being difficult?" I refrain from yelling because it would be killer for his head.

"Really? _Really?_ " he snaps. Apparently Nate doesn't care about the "no yelling" rule. "How is you forcing me to go to school not being difficult?"

"Kid, I told you-"

" _I_ told _you_ not to call me that!"

"Okay, okay. Take it down a notch. You're gonna hurt your head."

"Not you too," he groans. "My head is just fine. I don't need everyone to tiptoe around me like I'm some delicate... thing that's needs to be taken care of."

"Nate, look at me." He begrudgingly spares me a glance out of the corner of his eye. "You were in a car accident a few hours ago. You have broken bones and a severe concussion. You are injured. It's okay to be needy." I'm suddenly struck by an idea to get Nate to come home with me. "How about this? I'll stay with you while you're recovering and-" Nate looks like he's about to interrupt, but push through. "-afterwards you can decide if you want to come back with me or not. Sound like a deal?"

Nate frowns, considering my proposition. "Hm, let me think about that... Hm..." He taps his chin with a comical look on his face. It's at that point I know he's going to say- "No."

"Oh, come on, Nate. What's the worst that could happen? You can always say no."

"I did say no. I just said it a little earlier."

"What's it going to take for you to forgive me?"

"I don't know."

"Then I'm going to do everything in my power to change your mind. Do you want me to get you something to eat?"

"No."

"Do you want me to rub your feet?"

"No."

"Do you want me to sing to you?"

He finally cracks a smile. "No. I'm not allowed to listen to music, remember?"

"Is there _anything_ I can do for you?"

"Not right now. I think I need some time alone."

I nod, then stand up and return the chair. "Okay, Nate. Tell the nurse to come find me if you need me."

I peek into the room after I leave just in time to watch Nate curl up on his side and softly close his eyes. I know it's super creepy (I'm getting several weird looks), but sit just outside Nate's room and watch over him as he sleeps. I'm sure his subconscious is going to have a field day with all the excitement that's happened in the past few days. I'll wake him before any of his dreams get too bad.

* * *

The next 24 hours, I try to get Nate to open up, but he refuses to even let me visit him. He requests minimal check ups from even the nurses. He's basically put himself in solitary confinement. How can help him if I can't see him?

In the early hours of the next day, I'm shaken awake by the culprit himself. "Sam?!"

He smiles apologetically. "Hi, I was just stopping by-"

"What the hell is your problem?" I hiss. "You abandon your brother in a car wreck and you have the _nerve_ to show up two days later."

"I know, I know. I'm a shitty person. I just... I feel terrible. I brought his bag. I figured he would want his books."

I jam a finger into his sternum. "That doesn't make up for anything! He almost died and you just ran! You weren't even going to go for help, you selfish son of a bitch!"

Sam ducks his head with a pained look in his face. "I... I'm sorry. I was a stupid coward."

"Damn right you were."

"I know I don't deserve Nathan as a brother." He lifts his eyes to make hesitant eye contact. "But I was hoping you would let me talk to Nate. I have some things to tell him."

I pause and think for a moment. Who am I to deny Sam to see his brother? I'm not a figure of authority and I'm sure as hell not family. I'm just Nate's mentor. "As much as I'd like to say no, I won't," I say. "But I have two conditions. First, you have to apologize to him."

"Of course," he quickly agrees. I hold up my finger to ask for a few more moments of his time.

"And second, I need you to promise me you will never endanger Nate's life again." Sam's face pales, looking very uncomfortable. "He means a lot to the both of us, so naturally we're at odds by both trying to keep him in our lives. But it's all for nothing if he's dead."

He nods. "Understood." Sam puts a hand over his heart and swears, "I will never put Nathan at risk again. So help me God."

Even with the Nate-esque remark at the end, I know he's serious by the look on his eyes. I step to the side and gesture toward Nate's door, hoping that this will start to make things right.


	12. Chapter 12

I don't even lift my head from the pillow at the footsteps. "I thought I told you to leave me alone," I spit.

"That's no way to talk to your older brother."

I perk up and swing my head a bit too quickly. "Sam?" I ask, squinting through the spinning room.

"Hey, Nathan." He smiles and sits on the edge of my bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He pats my hand and peers up at me shamefaced. "I'm sorry, Nathan. I'm really, _really_ sorry."

"Don't be. It was my fault," I sigh. "I'm the one that pulled on the wheel. I hope you're not hurt."

"What? No, I'm fine." He waves his hand dismissively. "Nathan, it was my fault. I was the drunk driver. I am responsible. And I promise I will never put you in harm's way again."

"Oh, Sam..."

"No, I'm serious. You deserve a better life than mine. You're too smart for all of this. You should be in school using that big brain of yours."

I crinkle my nose in distaste. "You haven't been talking to Sully, have you?"

"No, I haven't. I truly believe you're meant to do something more with your life. And I know you and that old guy are going through something, but he can take better care of you than I can."

That was not what I was expecting. "But... I thought you wanted me to stay with you."

"Well, I do. I just think it's better this way."

"Say I don't agree with you. Can I still come home with you after they let me out of here?"

Sam says, "Of course." But he looks disappointed.

"I'll... think about it."

He smiles and pats my uninjured shoulder softly. "I bet you've been doing a lot of that these past few days."

"Tell me about it," I groan. "They won't let me do anything! No reading, no drawing, not even TV!"

"Aw, poor baby brother."

"Shut up."

* * *

A few minutes after Sam leaves, I hear more trespassing footsteps. "Nate?" asks a gruff voice. I'm surprised he waited this long to talk to me. He actually respected my request for once.

I quickly weight the pros and cons of conversing with him. Eventually, I decide on: "Come in."

Sully draws a chair closer to my bed and says, "I heard you talking with Sam, so I figured I'd come talk to you, too."

"What, you wanted to check that he's not turning me against you?"

"Oh, come on, Nate. That's not fair. I'm just checking in on you. I can't imagine the pain you must be in."

"I'm fine. Obviously. Have you seen the nurses frantically running in and out of here? No. _I'm fine_."

There's a heavy silence where Sully sighs tiredly. "Nate, I'm begging you. Please give me a shot. I'll do anything."

I quirk an eyebrow and glance at him out of the corner of my eye. "Anything?"

"...Yes," Sully says in a hesitant manner, almost as if he suddenly realized the danger of the word "anything".

"So you're prepared to my follow my every command? Take every order?"

"You want me to be your butler for the rest of your stay in the hospital?"

"Yes." Sully opens his mouth with a rebuttal, but I interrupt. "You got a problem with that?"

"Well-"

"I thought you said _anything_."

His lips press into a thin line, extenuating his well groomed mustache. "You're right. I said anything, so anything it is. Your wish is my command."

I know my smirk is smug and condescending, but I can't help myself. Sam did a really good job convincing me to hang with Sully a little longer, even if it means mandatory public schooling. But I know they're both right about it being good for me. I just won't tell Sully yet. I mean, why ruin a perfectly good opportunity to have a personal servant for a few days?

"Your first job will be to bring me a dozen donuts. And not the crap ones from the hospital cafeteria. I want the frosted ones from the bakery."

"Is that all?" Sully rolls his eyes.

"I will not take sass from my employees, Mr. Sullivan. One more infraction and you're out."

He raises an eyebrow, but straightens in his chair. He quickly salutes me and heads for the door. "Yes, sir. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

"Make it fifteen," I call after him, snickering at his groans. This is going to be so much fun.


	13. Chapter 13

I lounge in the chair by Nate's bed. I'm exhausted from all the running around he's made me do. That boy can sure be a pain in the ass if he wants to be. _But he's worth it_ , I think to myself.

I inwardly groan as the nurse pushes her cart into the small room. I have to move to give her space.

"Hello, Nate. How are you feeling today?" she asks.

"I'm doing fantastic," he says holding up his casted arm. The dislocated shoulder only needs a sling now, but his elbow is going to need at least three months to heal. It's going to be a bitch getting Nate to go that long without climbing something.

The nurse has Nate lay against his pillows so she can get a better look at his arm. "Drink these while I set up the big one, okay?" She gives him a cup with five pills and a Dixie cup filled with tap water. Nate obediently downs them in one go. They weaned him off the IV a few days ago, but he still needs the pain killers.

I have to look away when the nurse picks up the needle. I know he needs the antibiotics to keep away infection, but why does it have to be injected? Nate's a good sport about it, but I see him tense up every time they wheel in the cart. Apparently, the worst part isn't the needle, but the burning sensation the leaves behind like a trail as it makes its way around the body. Luckily, it knocks Nate out within an hour of injection so he doesn't have to feel it for hours.

"Sully?" Nate calls.

I turn around slowly, but breathe a sigh of relief when I see the nurse has already stuck him. "Yeah?"

"Can you get my history book from my bag?"

"Sure."

"You're not planning on reading it, are you Mr. Drake?" the nurse warns. "No reading until Dr. Lu says so."

Nate groans and rubs his new band-aid tenderly. "Never mind," he scowls. "We'll find something else to do."

"Good boy." The nurse pats his head then pushes her cart out into the hallway.

He sighs and folds his arms gingerly. "Now what?" He does it to try and hide the pain, but I can see right through him.

"Have you already run out of ways to torture me?"

Nate smirks and narrows his eyes at the challenge. "Let's... play a game."

"What kind of game? I don't have a deck of cards on me."

"How 'bout Never Have I Ever?"

I shake my head and quirk my mustache. "I'm not a teenage girl."

"Today you are," he says, crossing his legs crisscross applesauce style. "Come on, let's play."

"Alright, alright. How do you play?"

"Okay, so you hold up your hand like this." He holds up his right hand and extends his fingers. "Then you say something you've never done and if the other person has done it, they have to put a finger down."

I take a second to process before finally saying, "...Come again?"

Nate rolls his eyes in exasperation. "I'll give you an example. I would say something like 'never have I ever grown a creepy mustache', then you would have to put down a finger because you _have_ grown a creepy mustache. But usually you don't do anything that obvious because that's not fun. If you lose all your fingers, you lose the game."

I shrug. I'll pick it up as we go.

"I'll go first," Nate volunteers. "Never have I ever peed my pants in public."

"So... if I have pissed myself, I have to put a finger down?"

"Yes."

"Well then, you're out of luck."

He wrinkles his nose. "Boo. Your turn."

"Okay..." What have I never done that Nate probably has? "Never have I ever eaten a dozen donuts in one day."

"Ha ha, ditto. You're gonna have to do better than that," he taunts. "Never have I ever... drank wine."

"Really? That's not even close!"

"It's not that far off," he defends. "I've never actually seen you drink any."

"Well, I am more of a beer person, but if the lady wants wine..."

"Ew, stop. We're moving on."

I chuckle and say, "Never have I ever been grounded."

"Nah, nuns don't ground. They carry rulers."

"Alright, you go."

"Never have I ever been to college."

 _Sneaky little..._ "I'm not answering that."

"But I thought you said _anything_."

I press my lips together and give him a look. _He wants a game, I'll give him a game._ "Fine. I never went to college. I joined the Navy right out of high school." I continue before he can ask any questions. It's my turn. "Never have I ever changed my name."

Nate freezes, all traces of a smirk suddenly missing. "I... I've never-"

"Don't lie," I say. I've known since the day we've met, but I'm curious if he'll own up to it.

"I..." He swallows and lifts his chin. Very slowly, his thumb folds towards his palm. I don't feel victorious, however. I actually feel guilty. That's private information and I shouldn't have pried. Well, then again... he started it.

Nate wiggles his four remaining fingers and says, "Never have I ever hit my best friend."

The look of pain on his face hits me square in the chest. I guiltily put down a finger, following it with: "And never have I ever felt like a shittier person." Nate smiles a little, so I know I've said the right thing.

Then he yawns, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright, kid, time for bed." It comes out of my mouth before I can stop it, but Nate waves me off.

"It's okay. I kind of like it when you call me kid. I feel like I *yawn* belong somewhere." His eye lids droop a little further.

I shrug happily. "As long as you're okay with it." I gently press him against the mattress and fiddle with the bed's controls until it lowers itself. "I've got some other nicknames for you if you want. I kind of like squirt."

Nate shakes his head, amused. "I will personally strangle you if you call me that."

"I won't call you squirt if you don't call me old man. Deal?"

"Deal."

I put a hand over his and squeeze lightly. "Get some sleep. Rest is the best medicine."

"'Kay."

...And he's out like a light. I move my hand from his to scoot my chair closer, but Nate grabs onto it tightly, preventing me from leaving. I pat his hand with my unoccupied hand and whisper, "I'm not going anywhere, kid. I promise."


	14. Chapter 14

_Years and years later..._

"'Lena!"

I groan, then call from the kitchen, "Coming, sweetie." I slip the bowl of soup out of the microwave and the glass of water off the counter. My hip bumps open the door and put the dishes on the bedside table.

"Thanks," Nate sniffles. He woke up sick yesterday and I was okay with taking care of him then, but now... "Did you bring the tissues?"

"They're on your side of the bed."

"Oh, I ran out last night. Did I not tell you?"

"No."

"Well, I ran out. Can you get me some more?"

"Uh... sure. But I'm going to have to go to the store."

"Please, Elena?"

I sigh, giving in at the rough sound of his vocal cords rubbing together. "Of course I will. What kind of wife would I be if I didn't?"

He gives me a pained smile. I would kiss him, but I don't know how well he could take care of me if I get sick. My thoughts are interrupted by my phone. I run a hand down Nate's cheek, then answer, "Elena Fisher speaking."

"Hey, Elena, we've got a problem."

"Uh-oh, let's hear it." Nate tugs on my hand, but I wave him off.

"There's another coup stirring in Egypt, and we've got no one here to cover it."

"What, no one? Scott and Britney aren't in?"

"No, everyone's home for the weekend."

"'Lena," Nate whispers, poking my arm.

I hold up a finger and continue into the phone. "Well, I'm home with a sick husband. Can't you call anyone else?"

"I did. No one's picking up. And you can leave your husband home alone, you know. He's an adult, he can take care of himself."

 _You don't know my husband..._ "Okay, okay. I'll be there in an hour."

"Thanks, Elena. Send my apologies to your husband."

"I will. See you soon." I hang up and glance down at Nate. "What is it, sweetie?"

"I..." He thinks hard for a second, then shakes his head in frustration. "I forgot."

"Well, I'll give you some time to think about it. I have to go into work."

"Work?" He almost sits up, but changes his mind halfway. "Why do you have to go?"

"No else will pick up the phone."

"But... I'm sick. Who's gonna take care of me?"

"I think you'll be fine on your own for a few hours. You'll probably end up sleeping through most of it anyway."

Nate gives me the most pitiful look, puppy dog eyes and all. I almost cave, but then I remember what I'm dealing with.

"Please don't make this harder than it has to be. I'll call Sully, how's that?"

He deepens his pout. "I like you better."

"That's because he's not willing to baby you like I am."

"Please stay, Elena. He makes me get up to make my own food."

"Whine, whine, whine..."

"Please? With a cherry on top?"

"Nate-"

"And rainbow sprinkles?"

"I'll make you a deal. If you let Sully take care of you for a little while, I'll give you a massage when I come home."

He contemplates this, then asks, "Are we talking a full body massage?"

"Yes."

"Like _full_ full body massage?"

I smirk seductively and say, "Absolutely." I only suggested it because he's not the only one who wins during an all-inclusive massage. "But you have to promise me you'll be good for Sully."

"I will."

"Good boy." I kiss him on the forehead because I can't help it. "I'm going to call Sully, then I'll leave for the office. See you soon."

"I love you," he says, then rubs a hand across his nose.

"I love you, too."

Once I'm out of earshot, I press the speed dial number for Sully. I put him as 2. He should be 1 for the amount of times I have to call him, but it feels weird not to have my mom as 1.

Sully answers with the usual, "How ya doin', sweetheart?"

"I'm doing just fine, but Nate's a little under the weather."

"Aw, how are you holding up?" He knows how Nate can be when he's not feeling well. He did raise him, after all.

"I'm... okay. I'm calling because-"

"You need to tap out for a little while?"

I almost laugh at how spot on he is. "I swear you've bugged our rooms. You always know these things."

"Nah, I just know Nate. Unfortunately."

I roll my eyes and glance at my watch. I need to get going if I want to meet my deadline. "Could you pick up a few tissue boxes on the way? We're out."

"Oh, all right. You should make him use toilet paper. That's what I would do when he was living with me. It was incredible how fast his sniffles went away. It was almost miracle level."

"I couldn't do that to him. His nose is pretty much raw at this point."

"That's because he's been using too many tissues!" Sully sighs and I hear a chair creak as he presumably stands up. "I'll straighten him out for you sweetheart."

"Okay, I'm just leaving for work. I don't want to find him black and blue when I come back."

"Don't you worry, darling. I'll keep him in good enough condition for whatever you two were planning tonight."

"Sully!" I can hear him laughing on the other end. "I'm checking the room for mics and cameras as soon as I get home."

"I'll be there in ten. See you around, sweetheart."

"Bye, Sully."

I end the call and grab my keys. I trust Nate on his own for ten minutes. I think.

* * *

 _10:30 that night..._

I rub a hand over my tired face as I unlock the door. Turns out Egypt was more of a shit storm than I expected. Half the time I was too busy worrying about Nate home alone to focus on writing the article. Sully's car parked in the driveway gives me hope that the house is not flooded/on fire.

I drop my keys and purse on the couch and drag my feet up the stairs. I pause before pressing on the ajar bedroom door. Nate and Sully's voices float through the crack in the door frame. I take a peek and see them holding up various fingers, donning huge, goofy smiles.

A creak of the hinges gives away my position, keeping me from doing anymore recon. "Hey, Elena," Nate says, waving his pointer finger. "How was work?"

"Fine, how are you feeling?" I perch myself on the bed and run a hand through his hair.

Sully answers before Nate can. "The kid is slowly driving me out of my mind, but other than that I'm fine."

Nate throws a fake punch at Sully, but they both keep their grins. "I'm feeling much better, Elena. Thank you for asking." He then pucker his lips, asking for a kiss.

I playfully push his face away and say, "You're still sick."

"Stupid germs." He frowns and turns back to Sully, wiggling his fingers. "Let's finish our game, Sully. It's your turn."

"What are you guys playing?" I get comfortable and tuck my feet under my legs on the bed.

"Never Have I Ever," Nate says while Sully thinks.

"Really?" I giggle. "I played that at sleepovers when I was a kid. Why are you two mythical treasure hunters playing?"

"Long story," they say in unison.

"Oookay then." I'll let them keep their secrets for now. There will be enough time for that on some future drunken night. "Can I play? Or is this a no girls allowed thing?"

"No, you can play," Nate nods. "We can start over."

"But I'm about to win," Sully groans.

"You've already won twice, greedy!"

* * *

 _One hour later..._

My head lays on Nate's chest, arms wrapped around his abdomen. His breath catches with mucus every once and a while, but he's otherwise peaceful. The only real sound comes from Sully snoring in the corner. Both he and Nate have a relaxed, content look on their face. They'll deny it in the morning, but Sully has Nate's hand clasped in his own. The boys don't usually openly show such affection for each other. I find it adorable and would snap a picture, but Nate will wake when I move my arms. Instead I tighten my embrace. Nate likes physical contact. I think it reassures him that he's not alone and there's someone looking out for him. It's not out of the ordinary for someone with abandonment issues to be clingy.

I nestle even further into his rib cage, listening to his strong and steady heart beat. "I love you," I murmur.

His heart flutters.


End file.
